Strictly Business
by Spontaneous Muse
Summary: A study of Klavier and Ema's somewhat-complicated relationship. Every facet of it; the love, the hate, the respect, the small gestures. In a work setting, of course. Non canonical collection of one shots and shorts. 3; Over Analyzing.
1. Bitter like Coffee

Hi!

So I was inspired by **MissYoui**'s collection of oneshots and shorts. I always loved her writing and hated how slow the klema fandom was. So, I decided to finally take it upon myself and contribute to this!

As the title suggests, this won't necessarily be fluffy klema shots. Instead, I wanted to explore all facets of their relationship - the hate, the mutual frustration, the respect, the small crush they obviously have on each other, and then, in some cases, the full blown love. In a work environment.

These aren't canonical with each other nor take place in a set time. Instead, they're just snippets of their lives at work. So while they're not making out behind the desk the entire time, I hope there's enough to keep things refreshing and new.

I will be open to suggestions and requests, probably!

So here you go! The first oneshot from 'Strictly Business'.

.:{::}:.

/ **Strictly Business .**

**o1; Bitter like Coffee**

There are those mornings where everything is out to annoy you. Your alarm clock is too loud; your clothes don't want to go on; the light never wants to change; a stupid motorcycle is occupying an entire parking spot. Ema Skye was close to hitting her head against the wheel in frustration. That stupid fop's motorbike was probably purposely parked in the lot to drive her nuts. Occupying one whole _damn_ space. Hell, there's a sidewalk for a reason! The brunette entertained the thought of running it over. However, in doing so, a pay cut was in her near future. Resignedly she pulled out and circled the lot like an eagle searching for prey.

The coffee machine wasn't cooperating either. The trickle of the life-saving brown liquid was much to slow. Ema found herself tapping her foot impatiently. Every droplet of coffee seemed tantalizingly teasing, as each drop was begging to go into her parched and needy lips.

So the last thing she needed was someone breathing down her neck. Or talking to her. With a german accent.

"Fraulein, coffee isn't always the best way to go in the morning."

She could practically feel the blood rushing to her face. It wasn't out of embarrassment – oh it was quite the contrary – rather her urge to throttle something grew tenfold. In fact, she would pity her coffee mug if she wasn't intent on shattering it to pieces. She could almost feel the smirk on his face.

"I'll ignore that comment," she hissed as she pulled the cup from the slow machine and towards her lips. The rich and earthy aromas enticed her nose, the dark brown liquid swirled indulgingly towards her until caramel fingers wrapped around the pink porcelain. His grip was gentle yet restricting at the same time.

"I am serious fraulein, coffee is no good for the vocal chords. A good night's rest should remedy your drowsiness."

If it weren't for the fact she would like nothing more but to empty the contents of her cup on his ungrateful face, she might've noticed the genuine concern in his voice towards her wellbeing. Instead, it had the opposite effect and had her cheeks flushing with anger. She whirled around (fully aware his _stupid foppy purple _jacket received a rather painful slap of brown hair) and closed the gap between her and her boss. He was always just a little taller than her; her eyes would normally, up close, get a wonderful view of his chiselled cheekbones. So Ema, just half a foot away from the blonde prosecutor, stood on her tip toes inadvertently in anger as her smouldering brown eyes burned holes into his cooler blue.

Her irritation could hardly be contained any longer. Poison seeped into her voice, edging each word with steel. "First of all, glimmerhead, I'm not a _singer_, so I don't care about that. Second, I would _love_ a good night's rest if _you_ didn't overload me with work!" His eyes widened slightly at her extreme annoyance, and if she bothered to look she might've seen something akin to sympathy but _boy_ she was on a roll; she wasn't going to stop now, "And not only that, I have the _worst drive here_, _hit every red light, _and your _stupid foppy motorbike is sitting in a whole space-_"

The German prosecutor's eyebrows pushed together in mock hurt. "Well, my hog is quite precious, _nein_? I wouldn't want some crazy person running it over."

Inner Ema screamed and whipped the cup of coffee at his face, but outer Ema hissed lethally and yanked the cup away from their shared grasp. "You… you insufferable little _fop_! I hope some rabid fan _destroys_ your motorbike!" She expected him to make some sort of rebuttal ("_Achtung! _That bike's worth more than your yearly salary!" or, "That was quite rude, _liebe_, don't make me _ravish you_,"). Instead Klavier made a condescending clicking noise with his tongue, as one would do to a misbehaving child. Ema found it much more irritating than a vocalized payback.

She shot him a withering glare, fully aware of the amusement he was milking from their exchange, but honestly at this point she didn't give a crap. This was scientifically one of the worst mornings she's had, _ever_, and she hasn't even started work. Suddenly not in the mood for her long-awaited saviour in coffee, she marched over to the closest surface and slammed down the pink ceramic mug with a little more force than necessary. Head reeling and wanting nothing more than drown in the sensation of snackoos, she left the room in a vengeance towards her desk.

Of course, she didn't miss the teasing voice that called after her. Who could miss his super infuriating german accent? "Fraulein, you forgot your-"

"I don't want it! _I'm awake enough as it is_!"

In hindsight, Ema was expecting a half-serious speech from Klavier later on – something about work ethics, or even respect. She was even prepared for perhaps a dock in pay for the month.

What she didn't expect was no extra cases, nor the cup of coffee that had mysteriously arrived on her desk after her lunch break.

.:{::}:.

So not exactly the fluffiest thing ever, but still, a cute insight on their relationship.

Review?


	2. Awkward

Hi there!

This little short was inspired by a word prompt. (Guess what word it was!) While I knew it would be incredibly easy to pull off a good fic from Ema's POV, I thought coming from Klavier, it would be vastly different experience.

.:[::]:.

:/ **Strictly Business**

**o2. Awkward**

Sometimes Klavier Gavin felt like he was back to being a little school boy.

Not that he came to that conclusion on his own. Fraulein Detectiv often commented on his childish ways. His want to win every case. His want to own everything he desired.

And it wasn't like Klavier was _stupid_. He was totally self aware of his position. When he wants something, he often would get it. Or he would persist otherwise until it was his. Normally, that would be okay.

But when he's totally aware of his impulsive whims – _totally aware of every glance he shoots in her direction - _ it makes him feel… awkward. His eyes and fingers would ride that dangerously magnetic pull towards her perfect figure until he'd force that link to break and his eyes/hands would snap back to where they were. She was completely and entirely enticing; the fact he was aware of this, and the uncomfortable aches he felt in her presence – _all of them – _just made it entirely awkward.

Or at least, that was Klavier's inner turmoil. Half the time she wasn't even paying attention to him. He'd go down to the main floor to get something – a random print out and such – and yet her head wouldn't turn. Yes, Klavier was ultra aware she probably wouldn't notice in the first place. But still- he could wish, couldn't he?

He also was totally aware he was making it awkward by thinking it was awkward, but it was hard not to. He could always approach her the same way he did before he was… aware. Teasing and aloof. Yet somehow it made him feel horribly fake (suddenly her reproach to him made sense) and then he was kicking himself over the mistakes he made in the past. What kind of a horrible impression did he make on her-

"Uh, mister Gavin, you've been standing there for like, 10 minutes. Want to move?" Oh god, even her voice was sexy.

Oneliners flowed to the tip of his tongue as if it someone twisted the top of a faucet, yet in his mind he was mentally deleting the horrible ones before they had a chance to escape his brain and out his mouth. Instead, he came up with something short from his desired effect. "Sorry Fraulein, I seem to have forgotten something and…"

"Let me guess, you're trying to remember what it was?" Ema's voice was hardly impressed. It didn't surprise him; he was hardly impressed either. "Well, if you're gonna think over what you've forgotten, can you do that _not _ in my way?"

Another stream of sentences bubbled at his lips, threatening to spill. But instead he bowed his head as generously as possible. "Of course, I apologize."

Her eyebrow rose in mild expectation and surprise but at this point he wasn't paying attention. He was still mentally chiding himself for the stupid and horribly awkward things his _unaware_ self would've said. "You okay? Don't overthink it. Your brain might go into overload. Or you might get cardio arrest." Her concern was there underneath the sarcasm but it was thin – still, it was enough to get Klavier's attention back.

"Uh, yeah," he responded rather ungracefully. Her eyebrows pushed together and something like a laugh escaped her. He pressed himself against the wall, allowing the brunette to pass. She looked at him once carefully. Her brown eyes were livid and alive as usual, dancing their usual fiery dance.

"Seriously, you okay? Not hung over something? Or hung over in general?"

A chuckle escaped him – too high for his own liking – as he denied it profusely. "I assure you fraulein, I would do nothing of the sort, before a work day." He winked, it was a little forced on his part, but the brunette's signature scowl tugged on her lips as she trudged away, muttering something about it being her imagination after all. Klavier let out a breath he didn't know he was holding in and ran his hand through his hair.

This awkward game of cat and mouse really had him feeling like a school boy.

.:[::]:.

What can I say? Ema turns him on.

It's one thing to like and watch someone, it's another when you're so aware of it you're hyperaware of everything.

I just realised how much further I could've taken this.

Well, it'll be saved for another short in the future. :)

Review?


	3. Over Analyzing

I know I started this collection on the basis I would update more often.  
Well, here's an update for you; I won't ramble here but rather at the end of the short.

Enjoy!

.:{::}:.

/ **Strictly Business .**

**o3; Over-Analyzing**

It came to Ema's attention that she would probably have to ask Gavin for a raise.

When she realized this fact at first, she vehemently denied the need of this. She was okay with the – minimal – amount of money she earned, but it wasn't like she _needed _the luxuries she liked. She had already suffered through a few years of her current pay check!

But she just needed more money. There were enough strains in her budget that the thought of just being _unstrained_ with her money became too tempting. So she tried to earn her raise; she put more effort in her work, stayed later in her office, and spent too many hours with her nose in her papers, stifling yawns and rubbing her eyes tiredly. Ema was feeling weary. Soon, her funds were so limited that, by the end of the week, she couldn't afford her snackoos. Even her own realization of that fact was nearly enough to push her over the edge. However, she steeled her will and continued through her self-inflicted suffering.

All it took was one person – one _damn person_ who probably thought they were funny or something – to notice the particular lack of the particular bag in her hands. It was only seven words, seven _horrible, demonic _words, that had her seething and in one of the foulest moods that even her certain "time of month" couldn't compare to.

"Finally grown out of those snackoos, have you?"

Finally grown out of those snackoos, have you.

_Finally grown out of those snackoos, have you? _

_Finally-_

Ema tried to muffle a scream into her labcoat. Her computer was just glowing back at her, mocking her, her eyes too furious and tired to try to decipher what the black print was trying to tell.

Now, if Ema had any normal boss – one like a certain black-haired prosecutor – the popped question would be met with an adequate response. That is, a polite refusal or a gratifying acceptance. However, with Gavin, there was a whole rainbow of possibilities ranging from flirty to obnoxious (in hindsight, she thought, those were rather close in the spectrum of answers) that she would rather not think about in case she didn't want to see her lunch again. Metaphorically, of course.

However, those seven words echoed in her mind again and reminded her of her urgency of the matter. She needed that raise. Badly. As much as it made her want to scream – want to punch her computer in the screen – she decided that it was necessary. She couldn't quite put it off much longer. In fact, she made a deal with herself. She'd ask him. Taking a deep breath to collect her scattered thoughts, she rested her elbows on her desk and gently pushed fingers in her temples.

_Alright Ema, no more running away. The first opportunity you get when you see him, ask him for it. You have to. You've had plenty of opportunities to ask a single, virtually harmless question – and you've chickened out. You have to. Or else you can kiss snackoos goodbye._

"Gavin!" She found herself barking at her first opportunity. At first she mentally chided herself for her hastiness, and then chiding herself further when she felt relief at him stopping in his tracks. Then she couldn't help noticing he didn't swivel around to face her, sickening charm making her want to metaphorically puke. She shook the thoughts from her head – something she was getting better at, she found – and walked reluctantly up to him, struggling to find the right words to phrase her question. '_Look, I need a raise.' _ No, too hasty. '_Don't take this the wrong way, but my bills raised and I'm running short on money so I could really use more which means I need a –'_ No, too desperate. '_You look good today. And I need a raise.'_ No, why would she even entertain that thou-

"Sorry Fraulein, but I have a lot of work I need to get done," said the blonde prosecutor with a note of regret. Ema felt her temper flaring – which was the last thing that would probably help her in succeeding her goal – but she also noted that small smirk on his lips as he purposefully avoided eye contact with her. Before she could form any coherent sentences, he managed to sidestep her and continue on his way. Despite her hasty mental preparations, it did _not _come out the way she wanted to. She wanted to at least phrase it in a way that got him; to make it _impossible_ to refuse. Damn it, it just slipped. And it seemed like he was going to milk the moment, like he usually glimmerously does. She stared mindlessly at his back, the words tumbling out of her mouth before she could help herself.

"I need a raise." _Oh, shit._

_Pause. _"What?"

Infuriation prickled at her spine.

"You heard me," she said shortly, not at all interested in repeating it. Instead, she felt her cheeks heat up in embarrassment.

"Sorry fraulein, I missed your _question." _ She _didn't _miss the more-than-obvious smirk that had only grown on his mouth.

"I _asked_ for a raise_." _Pause.

"You sound so _convincing_, fraulein detectiv." He clearly wasn't going to relent unless she phrased it in a question. Ema sighed loudly.

"Could I have a raise? _Please?_" She threw in for good measure, her eyebrows furrowed together in a furious wrinkle but, luckily, prosecutor fop was still turned around, shoulders shrugged in almost a thoughtful manner. She awaited it; she anticipated the teasing response. She expected the same flirtatious tone he almost always took to their conversation. Hell, she expected their similar banter to continue, the same one that seems to always spawn from any of their conversations.

"I see why not," he responded, almost as if he didn't need to think about it twice. Ema gawked; there was no feasible way that such a good response would happen so fast. It didn't make any sense. _No, it definitely didn't make any sense, _her rational part of her brain reasoned angrily. _He wouldn't just let you… get what you want. This is Gavin you're talking about: foppish, glimmerous fop._

He made to continue walking, as if he didn't need to justify the method behind his madness. He let her have her raise. There had to be kind of a catch – some… _ulterior motive_. No small tasks to fulfill, no secret date to earn her money? "That's it?" she found herself asking, curiosity and suspicion creeping into her tone unwillingly. But she _was_ curious.

He turned around and, with eyes closed, gave a little sigh as if he was about to explain something that should be very obvious. "Well, detectiv Skye, I thought the answer was obvious?" Her face must've been something else because he looked at her – for the first time this conversation – and laughed. "You look confused still."

"Because I am," she spluttered, not sure if he was joking with her or not. Sure she knew what he _meant – _but she was still curious. He expected him to laugh at her or something, but instead what he did was just raise his eyebrow playfully.

"Well, you're always a hard worker. You have to deal with those fangirls on several occasions, and you often collect evidence that I miss on my initial sweep. Not to mention that this past week, you've been turning in a lot of hard work and staying behind." He smirked, catching Ema's slight gawk of amazement. "What? I am a prosecutor for a reason; you didn't think I wouldn't notice? Because yes, I definitely think the answer was obvious."

There was a bit of a satisfied smile playing on his lips, but for once, she didn't feel any urge of irritation towards it. Instead, she felt an overwhelming sense of gratitude towards the blonde prosecutor. She swallowed, feeling a small surge of embarrassment at the lump that had formed there. He politely waited for her to blink rather stupidly, before he smiled again, dazzling white teeth illuminating his facial structure. "Is that all, fraulein?"

"Um," Ema cleared her throat before her voice slid smoothly back to its normal professional tone, "No, that's everything."

Another dazzling smile. "Then I shall return to my work, I do have a lot to do you know." He gave her a little wink before continuing on his way. She found her eyes following his back again, slower and more deliberate. Suddenly Ema understood what he was waiting for. Well, it was kind of obvious, she figured, and a small part of her realized how sometimes, she really _was_ the jerk after all.

"Hey Gavin!" He paused. "Um… thanks." He turned around to catch one of her genuine smiles, more out of embarrassment. He gave her one of his own – a genuine, soft smile; just a mere upturn in the lips instead of a paparazzi-level dazzler – which she found personally much more breathtaking that his fake one.

"You're welcome."

.:{::}:.

Because Ema Skye is a female.  
If you fully take in the fact that this is purely written from her point of view, the little details become much more significant as they aren't there to make the paragraphs look a little beefier.

Now some backstory and other slightly relevant things;  
originally this shot was going to be all flirtatious and adorably cliche klema by Klavier allowing her to have a raise... with conditions, of course. And then he'd hang that over her head as she keeps trying for it, only to have him change those conditions. Think of Klavier dangling that raise and Ema, a cat, trying so hard to swipe at it. Yeah, that kind of adorable-ness. But when I got to the actual part of Klavier stating these conditions... my mind decided to change directions, forcing me to go back and edit it to fit my new idea. It's 2 am though so I might've not been as thorough as it could've been. I also decided to keep that idea but just make a slight allusion to it in Ema's thoughts. That being said, that plot bunny hasn't quite retreated back to its nest, and since it is "adorably cliche klema" it will happen. It. Will.

Speaking of other plot bunnies, by merely writing Klema again after four months of hiatus from spending time with my boyfriend spawned like... four plots to run around at once. So keep your eyes out for some more Klema, hopefully sooner than this one came out. In addition, I can probably make the sexual feels in the shots that contain them much more believable now that... I've had some more first hand experience.

What can I say, romance tends to be a little gushy. :)

Review?


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